The Mad Minute
by Rookie425
Summary: Harvest. 2525, Zero Hour. A Search and Rescue Operation is underway for a group of colonists what had dropped out of contact after first contact with the Covenant was made. This was meant to be a short scene but I'm debating whether or not to continue it.


Private Gabriel Kawolski gazed out the rear hatch of the Pelican class drop ship at the clear tall grasses of the agricultural world of Harvest. He found it hard to enjoy the aesthetic scenery while he knew that violence was in his near future. He only hoped that this would be the last fight that humanity would have to endure against the brutally strategic and advanced race known as the Covenant. He was tired along with the rest of humanity. They had been fighting this enemy for less than a decade and they were already strained. This time, the Covenant crossed the line, attacking a civilian colony on Harvest. Private Mates, the Marine sitting across from Gabe, leaned closer to him so that he could hear him over the roar of the engines. "You've got that look about you."

"What look?" he shouted in reply.

"That 'what was I thinking when I enlisted' look."

"Why wouldn't I like this job?" he said sarcastically. "I get to travel a lot at least."

"No lie, man."

"Just when I was getting short, I had to pull this assignment."

Mates shook his head and leaned back. None of the Marines of the UNSC were able to take search and rescue operations seriously anymore. They were becoming so frequent that most of the time fleets would have to shorten the ideal search window just because the operations were spreading the response teams thin.

"Confirmed," the pilot said "We have visuals on the target location." The announcement was followed by the rhythmic clacking of weapons as the Pelican formation closed in on their objective. Gabe leaned back and watched his ammo indicator read full as he slapped a fresh magazine into his rifle.

"Shall we?" Mates said as he brought his rifle stock up to shoulder level. Gabe could tell that the black-armored shock trooper was smiling underneath his mirrored, blue tint visored helmet. He always has that sort of gung-ho mentality on combat drops or simple deployments. The whole squad seemed to be in state of confidence. Just then, the drop ship violently shook to the side, evading a volley of blue, luminescent weapons fire from Covenant areal fighters.

"Holy–!" One pilot shouted over the radio. "Someone man the turret on the back and take em down!" Plasma fire splashed against the side of the Pelican. "This is drop ship Garuda five-three. We've been engaged by Seraph fighters. This mission's a wash. Returning to--" An anti-air shell from one of the fighters sheered off the Pelican's starboard thruster, causing it to plunge into a heavy descent.

Confidence soon turned to panic as each of the Marines fought to keep themselves inside as they rapidly lost altitude. The pilots were all over the radio chatter. "Mayday. Mayday. Five-three is going down. Repeat we are going down." He briefly turned in his seat to face the squad. "Hold on to something!"

Seconds later, Gabe found himself waking up to the sound of gunfire coming from outside of the crashed Pelican, which he was surprised to find himself still lying in. He did a quick evaluation of his surroundings, despite his disorientation. Both pilots were dead along with two of his squad. As he began to heft himself off the ground to join in the fight, shook his head to hopefully counteract the disorientation. With his split second of recovery, he picked up his weapon and exited the downed aircraft.

"Clyde! Take that thing out of my sky!" Mates howled at a squad mate, who was attempting to revive the Pelican's turret back to operant status. He was finally successful after avoiding two strafing runs by the fighter. He cycled the action on the heavy caliber weapon and opened fire. The rounds tore the alien craft apart in chucks, soon engulfing it in bright blue flames from its ruptured engine. Clyde exhaled deeply, collapsing and resting his head on the turret. "Bandit's down."

Gabe lowered his weapon and sat down. He was still shaken up from the crash. Mates went to lend him a hand. "It's alright," he said, "I'm still in one piece."

"Bowski," Mates called, "status."

"Two men down, including the lieutenant. We've only got so much ammo to get us to our objective location and that's only if we carried the extra weight."

Gabe got back on his feet. "So what do we do?"

Just then a radio transmission kicked in through the remains of the Pelican's communications system._ "Garuda five-three, come in. This is the UNSC frigate, Spirit of Fire. Please respond"_

"Speak of the devil." Mates said.

"_If anyone out there can hear this, a large Covenant force has been launched from orbit and will be touching down right on top of your location in a manner of minutes. Advise you pull back to the civilian settlement and await reinforcements. ETA in fifteen. Hang in there."_

"Copy that, Fire. Garuda out."

The team stood in silent shock for a moment before Clyde broke the silence. "Guys? We're not moving."

"No time." Kawolski replied. "By the time we're able to hightail it a quarter mile to the settlement, the covies will have already gotten to us. We're better off making a stand here until the Spirit's back up gets here."

Clyde nodded. The rest of the team seemed to acknowledge the notion as well. Mates looked around at the crash site''s surroundings area. They had crash landed just about at the base of a hill. The Pelican was laying on its side, its back plastered against a line of trees.

"Well," Gabe began, "at least we have out backs covered by the tree line. No one, neither UNSC nor Covenant would be dumb enough to send a pod down in that thick."

"True." Mates turned, facing the sun as it disappeared on the horizon. "Plus, we just about know what their focal point is going to be for when they mass their attack." He pointed at the top of the hill. "More than likely they'll try to favor the high ground and make their way down to us after raining plasma on our asses. Best grab all the ammo you can carry and dig in. These are going to be the longest minutes of our lives."

Several minutes later, the squad waited in silence as they watched the night skye, anxious, eager for just something to happen. Kawolski was basically entrenched in the small depression next to the Pelican's tail, caused by the impact of the landing. He tried scanning the dark plains, using his low light setting in his helmet. Nothing. Just a perfect outline of the area and the green auras surrounding his squad mates. Just then, orbital pods started raining down around the crash site, lighting up the sky like flares as they burned through the atmosphere upon entry. The Covenant wasted no time with their attack, hoping to give the Marines less time to reorganize. The battle cry of the Elites, reptilian warriors donned in elaborate power armor, was enough to strike fear into even the strongest of soldiers, especially under the night sky of the now desolate planet.

They were surrounded in the purest form of chaos fathomable by the human mind. They were firing in all directions as their thermal displays picked up more and more heat signatures in the area. The minimal cover provided by the Pelican's wreckage held out fairly well for them but it wouldn't last. Clyde overheated the turret as he attempted to hold back a suicide charge on their location. Their odds were now significantly lower than before. Just as Wierbowski exited cover to fire, a round from a brute's weapon pierced his visor, knocking him to the ground.

Mates rushed to his body. He turned him over to see that the spike had impaled itself deep past the front of his helmet. He was gone. By the time they suffered their third casualty, Gabe recognized their desperation. Muzzle flashes illuminated the plains of Harvest. The sounds of exchanging fire was deafening.

"Spirit of Fire! We're taking casualties!"

"_Garuda. You need to hang in there just a bit longer. We're almost there."_

"I've got three men down! How much longer you want us to wait?!"

"_I won't let you down, son. Just hold the line."_

Gabriel fell victim to a stray shot from a spike rifle, which dug into his knee. The pain was so much that he couldn't even yell. Eluding the pain as best he could, he reloaded his weapon, watching every detail of the action in what felt like accelerated reaction time. He wasn't out of it yet. He propped himself against the side of the Pelican and re-applied himself to the conflict. Suddenly the sounds became muffled, the flashes lasted longer. Through his eyes, everything began to move slower. Perhaps it was an adrenaline rush, he thought. It didn't matter. Time itself began to lag. Every second was an hour to him. He could see everything that was happening.

Gabe could see the smoke trails of every bullet casing as it left the chamber of Mates' weapon like discarded cigarettes being flicked away. The incoming plasma fire seemed to move slow enough that he could trace their paths back to the source. He could distinguish the twisted expressions of the Covenant warriors as they attempted to advance. For once he noticed things about combat that he couldn't have seen before.

At this point, desperation was all that drove the fight even further. The Marines didn't focus on any definite targets. It was as if they had disregarded their training and resorted to wild fire. Gabe began to hear the voice of his drill instructor replaying in his head. "You're not being paid to rest, soldier! Every second you sit on your ass is a second that humanity will never get back! Colonies are relying on you to fight with ever second you have left alive in your very God-given existence! Don't stop for anything! Kill! Kill! Kill!" Teachings from basic started to come back to him. "The enemy is downrange!You need to man your weapon and put him in your sights!" Gabe brought his weapon to shoulder level, drawing a bead on the first target he could find in the darkened hell. "Too slow. He got you by now. Shoulder your Goddamn weapon! Good! Now fire! You heard me! Fire! Paste his brain!" He watched the blood splash up after landing a three round burst into the skull of a distant Sangheili. He remembered hearing of moments similar to the one he was experiencing. The mad minute. The last moments to shoot back at the enemy as much as one could before they were forced out of the fight. There was no order in this minute. No coordination. Just a continuum of confused, undisciplined fighting. Their short window of time to do as much as possible, hoping that it would make a difference in the already hopeless situation.


End file.
